A Pureblood, a Heir, and a Slytherin at Heart
by hiJJ36
Summary: AU. This story follows Neville Longbottom's time at Hogwarts while he tries to live up to his Pureblood last name. Rated T for safety.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is my first fanfiction, sorry for any errors and updates will be kind of random, hope you guys enjoy. Thank you to my beta reader and editor FandomGuy90. I do not own Harry Potter or any of its characters.**

Neville Longbottom was your average wizard. Born to purebloods Alice and Frank Longbottom on July 30, 1980. Raised by his Gran, Augusta Longbottom, after his parents were tortured to insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange; he grew up learning the ins and outs of pureblood society. Now the Longbottoms were not by any means into pureblood supremacy, and never treated those of different blood status beneath them, but they were into the pureblood traditions. They celebrated all the old holidays, practiced in all the old customs, and learned all that was expected to be known by any pureblood family. They lived in a large manor, own multiple estates of land, owned quite a few house elves, and had a fair amount of money.

Like most pureblood heirs, Neville was expected to act with grace and dignity. For Neville this was pretty hard. Even as a child he was very clumsy, fidgety, and stuttered. He tried, he really did, but he always seemed to make some kind of mistake. Even when he tried his very best he somehow did something wrong in his Gran's eyes. This caused him to develop a low self-esteem and lowered his confidence. The icing on the cake in his Gran's disappointment though, was how late he did his first bit of accidental magic. While most children started showing magic around the age of three or four, Neville did not show his first sign until he was eight years old, and that was only because his great uncle Algie scared the magic out of him.

To try and make up for his lack of decorum, Neville pushed to do well in his studies. By the age of six he had already memorized his family tree back twenty generations, and most of the pureblood traditions and customs. He also found that he had a natural talent in Herbology. This however did not impress his Gran, who was more focused on him reading anything that would be useful to becoming an Auror. Neville tried to do this for his Gran, but he just did not find any of it interesting. Actually that was a lie, he did find some of it interesting, just not the parts he was supposed to. You see as Neville read he found the bits on the Dark Arts fascinating, not the defense part, although he would never admit this to anyone.

Okay so maybe he was not that average of a wizard.


	2. Chapter 2

The day that he received his Hogwarts letter was the happiest in Neville's life. That morning his great uncle came over to go with his Gran and him to Diagon Alley. The three went to many stops to pick up supplies, then it became time to pick up a wand, at least Neville hoped. Now Neville knew that he was supposed to be getting his father's old wand, but he hoped that if he asked nice enough, he may be able to get one of his own. Not that he did not want his father's wand, it just was that Neville hoped that by getting his own wand and going to Hogwarts he would finally be out from his father's shadow. After they had gone shopping they stopped to get ice-cream. Neville, who had been quiet and polite the entire time, decided this was the best time to ask. Gathering up all his courage, Neville looked up from his ice cream and stared at his Gran.

"Gran," he said quietly.

"Yes Neville," Augusta said with a note of disdain.

"I was…..was….wondering…if…if..." Neville stuttered.

"If what?" Augusta said sternly, looking Neville straight in the eyes.

"If I could get my own wand," Neville breathed in one single breath.

Time seemed to stop in that one moment. No one said anything for a long while and Neville closed his eyes and waited for the scolding to begin. Then something unexpected happened. Algie slowly took a deep breath and turned towards Augusta.

"I think he should be allowed to get a wand of his own," he said calmly.

"What!?" Augusta hissed in rage.

"It is a rite of passage for a wizard and I believe that Neville should not have to miss out on this," he replied.

"And I will take father's wand with me," Neville added in a hurry.

Augusta took a deep breath and sighed.

"Very well then," she said with a hint of resignation in her voice.


	3. Chapter 3

Neville looked up at the Ollivander's sign in excitement.

"Now Neville you go in there, we will be waiting outside when you are done," Augusta said.

Bouncing slightly on the balls of his heels, Neville nodded, and made his way into the shop. A bell sounded as he entered. Looking around the dimly lit shop Neville noticed a slight movement out of the corner of his eye.

"Hello…is someone here?" Neville asked nervously.

"Well that's a surprise many don't notice me until I show myself," a man said popping up from behind the counter. "Ollivander, now which is your wand arm?"

"Neville Longbottom sir, I am right handed, though I can also write with my left hand."

Ollivander nodded and sent out a tape measurer, which began to measure almost every inch of Neville, while he ran around the shop picking up a variety of wand boxes.

"Here try this one, 13 inches, cherry wood, and a unicorn hair core" Ollivander said handing Neville a wand.

Neville gave the wand a wave, but nothing happened. Ollivander quickly took the wand away and replaced it with another. This went on for a long while and Neville began to feel discouraged as each wand did absolutely nothing in his hand. Finally, Ollivander handed Neville a small white wand. The moment Neville had it in his hand he knew this was it. A cold sensation ran threw his hand and when he waved it a series of green sparks shot out from the end.

"Ah," Ollivander said in awe, "That is a very old wand Mr. Longbottom, very old indeed. You see, I did not make that particular wand. That wand was made by my great grandfather back in the early 1800s. Never thought I see the day when that old thing would pick a wizard. Nine ½ inches, ridged, silver lime, with rougarou hair core. Good for the use of the Dark Arts and mind spells. You will do great things with that wand Mr. Longbottom, great things indeed."

With a shaky nod of the head Neville payed for his wand and left the shop. It would be many years before Neville ever told anyone what his wand was made of, or what it was good for.


	4. Chapter 4

Neville Longbottom stood on platform 9 ¾ looking down at his shoes, trying to hide his shaking hands. Today was the day he was heading to Hogwarts for the first time. Neville had grown up hearing tales of Hogwarts; for as long as he could remember, his Gran told stories about her and his father's time there. Neville knew that his Gran told him these stories in hope that he would turn out more like his father, a war hero, the heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom, a Gryffindor. His father, Frank Longbottom, a courageous and confident man; neither of which Neville was.

A hand being placed on his shoulder broke Neville from his thoughts. Looking up, Neville saw his Gran looking at him with a slight, disappointed frown on her stern face. Neville quickly straightened up his posture and shoved his hands farther down into his robe pockets. His Gran let out a little sigh and shook her head.

"Neville, you know that as the sole heir of the Longbottom family and fortune, you shouldn't be looking at your feet; you need to keep your head held high," she scolded, "And remove your hands from your pockets. I swear, I never had these problems with Frank," she muttered under her breath. Neville was pretty sure he was not supposed to hear that last part. "Go and get on the train, I'll see you at Yule holiday, and I expect a letter by the end of the week." After a quick nod from Neville, Augusta turned and left to floo back to the manor.

Neville took a deep breath, grabbed his trunk, and made his way onto the Hogwarts Express.


	5. Chapter 5

Neville made his way through the train in search of an empty compartment. Even though he had gotten to the platform relatively early, it seemed that many of the compartments were already filled. All around him students pushed and shoved their way through the small corridor. Neville tried his hardest to get through the crowd without tripping, but it was difficult with his trunk trailing behind him. Finally towards the back of the train Neville found an empty compartment. Dragging his trunk in behind him Neville shut the compartment door and began to try and get his trunk up on the rack above him. After a few minutes of struggling, Neville pulled out his wand. Practicing the wand movements of the spell he read about and mouthing it a few times, Neville felt ready to try it.

"Wingardium Leviosa" Neville said making the sound of power in his voice.

Neville was disappointed when nothing happened. He was about to try again when the compartment door opened, revealing a girl with brown bushy hair already dressed in her Hogwarts uniform.

"Hello, I'm Hermione Granger, may I sit here" the girl asked politely, or at least Neville thought it was supposed to be politely although he could not really tell since she said it like she had already made up her mind to sit in this compartment, whether he accepted or declined. Neville nodded and focused back on the task at hand.

"Oh, are you going to be doing magic," Hermione asked

"Well I am trying to," Neville replied sheepishly. "I am trying to levitate my trunk up to the rack, but it does not seem to be working"

"Here let me give it a try" Hermione said, pulling out her wand. "Wingardium Leviosa" she said with the utmost confidence. Slowly Neville's trunk was lifted from the ground and levitated to the rack above. Neville stared at her in awe as she quickly turned to her own trunk and did the same, before sitting down. Neville quickly closed his mouth and tried to regain any composure he had. Quickly taking a seat Neville face Hermione.

"My name is Neville Longbottom, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance" Neville said with what he hoped was some form of dignity.

"Are you a Muggleborn too?" Hermione asked

Neville shook his head and before he had a chance to say anything Hermione already began to speak. She started to tell all about herself, everything she learned about Hogwarts (most of which he already knew), the spells she had learned, and a series of questions that he never got a chance to answer before she started to speak again. About halfway through one of her sentences Neville reached into his pocket to check on Trevor, his pet toad, when he realized he was not there. Neville started to look around the compartment, without getting up from his seat as not to interrupt Hermione, but did not see him.

"Are you listening" Hermione asked once she noticed Neville was no longer looking at her.

"I am sorry" Neville said "It is just that I can not find my toad Trevor, he was in my pocket a moment ago and I do not see him anywhere in the compartment"

"Well then, let's go find him." With that Hermione stood up and left the compartment.


	6. Chapter 6

Neville stood in line behind all the other first years in the Great Hall. If the school year was going to be anything like the moments before, he was doomed. Already he had lost Trevor twice, fell into the lake, and made a fool of himself in front of all his peers. The sorting was well on its way, and Neville knew that his name would be called soon. Taking a deep breath, Neville waited in anticipation. Finally, in what seemed to take a lifetime, McGonagall called out his name. Neville slowly made his way up to the stool and sat, as the Sorting Hat was placed on his head.

"Ah, now let's see," a voice said in his head, making him jump

"Now don't be afraid" the voice said, "I'm just going to look through your head a bit. Now where was I. Not a bad mind you got here, plenty of work ethic and quite a bit of courage."

"Please let me get into Hufflepuff," Neville thought desperately.

"Hufflepuff," the voice questioned, "no that won't do at all. Ah, I see. It's all in your head here. The ambition, the potential, the need to step out of your parent's shadows, to become someone your family could be proud, your own person."

"If not Hufflepuff, then Gryffindor," Neville insisted, not liking what the hat was implying.

"No, although you have the bravery, whether you realize it or not Mr. Longbottom, Gryffindor will not suit you. Better be… Slytherin" the Sorting Hat cried out.

Heart racing Neville stood and started to walk towards the Slytherin table. He had almost made it down the steps before he realized he still had the Sorting Hat on his head. He took it off and handed it back to Mcgonagle, and quickly made his way over to his new house table as the entire Great Hall laughed.

Yep he was doomed.


	7. Chapter 7

Snape looked out at his house table, at all the new first years. More specifically Neville Longbottom. The surprise he was not expecting, sure no one knew exactly where any student would be sorted, but Snape was not surprised about the ones that came into his house. All except for him. How could a member of a Light, Gryffindor family land themselves into Slytherin? He should be Gryffindor with the oh so many Weasleys and the famous Boy-Who-Lived. Now he was just another headache for him to deal with.

Ron Weasley looked over at the Slytherin table with a glare on his face. A bunch of pureblood supremacists, future Death Eaters in the making, people who flaunted their wealth at others and manipulated people to their advantage. So how did Neville Longbottom of all wizards get sorted there? He was from a Light family, like him. That means that he was supposed to be good, noble, and always do what was right.

"I guess I was wrong," Ron thought.

Hermione didn't know what to think. She had read all about each of the four houses and heard the rumors, and nothing about Slytherin sounded like the Neville Longbottom she met on the train. However, no matter what she thought, there was no way to change who he, apparently, was inside. And that person was not someone she could associate with.

Dumbledore sat at the head of the Great Hall looking out at all the young faces. He watched the Gryffindors with a proud smile. Harry seemed to already be settling in quite well and seemed to make fast friends with the youngest Weasley boy. He was confident that he would do great here. Scanning the other tables Dumbledore's eyes landed on the Slytherin table. He could already see the normal power struggle among the first years. A battle that the young Mr. Malfoy seemed to be winning. Dumbledore's attention then turned towards Mr. Longbottom. He was quite surprised to see the son of two great Gryffindor being sorted into Slytherin, but children can surprise you. Dumbledore just hoped that Mr. Longbottom would stay on the Light side, he couldn't afford to lose any of the few purebloods on his side of the war. Now he was someone that needed to be watched.


	8. Chapter 8

Neville sat at the Slytherin table, eyes focused on his plate. So far everyone ignored him in favor of talking among themselves about their summers and trying to assert dominance over one another. Suddenly a voice said his name. Turning his head Neville look and saw Draco Malfoy smirking at him. Now Neville had never officially meet Draco, but he could recognize him from the few events they had crossed paths at.

"Well look what we have here" Draco mocked, "A good for nothing squib, how did you ever manage to convince the headmaster to let you in here, although you are from a family of muggle loving kooks like him."

The students around him started to laugh. Now normally Neville would duck his head down and ignore the comment, but something in his guts told him this was some kind of test. That his answer would be vital to his survival. Taking one bite of his food and swallowing, he turned his attention back to Draco.

With as much dignity as he could muster Neville began to speak. "You know it is quite rude to insult someone without introducing yourself, although your reputation does proceed you Malfoy. You also seem to know who I am, but I will still introduce myself. My name is Neville Longbottom Heir of the Ancient and Noble house of Longbottom. Now saying that you should know that, like a select few people sitting in this hall, my family line is part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. Also, considering that I am sitting here with you in this school means I am not a squib, unless you are implying that everyone here including you are squib yourselves." With that said Neville turned his attention back to his meal with a small smile on his face.

There was an extended stretch of silence among his housemates. Everyone looked between Neville and Draco waiting for the next move. Finally the silence was broken.

"Theodore Nott, Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Nott" a boy across and to the left of Neville said, sticking out his hand.

Neville looked at Theodore, he was a tall, skinny boy, with brown hair and eyes. His family was known to be supporters of the Dark Arts and accused to be working for He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named during the first war. Neville knew that by shaking Nott's hand he would be signing up for more than a friendship, he would be signing up for a possible alliance between their families. This could get him in serious trouble with his Gran, but now Neville had to decide, would he go through the year with no one, try to make friends with someone outside his house and fail, or gain an ally.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance," Neville said shaking Theodore's hand.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Sorry for the long wait, my updates depend on when my beta reader get to proof read it. I now have two people beta reading this story, so updates should be a bit faster. Thank you to my new beta reader! Enjoy.**

The Slytherin first years made their way down the winding corridors down towards the common room. Neville kept looking around at his surroundings, trying to memorize as many landmarks as possible in hopes that he would not get lost later. After about five minutes, they entered into the dungeons. The air grew colder the farther down they went and the corridors became more maze-like. The group walked on for about ten minutes before they came upon what seemed to be a dead end.

"This is the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room," said the prefect that had been leading them. Turning around to face the wall, the prefect uttered, " Salazar."

In front of him a door began to form out of the stone, until there stood a twelve foot high, stone, arched door. The wood was a dark mahogany with the Slytherin Crest carved into it, and underneath it read: "The Purest of Blood". The door then slowly began to open to reveal the common room. Stepping into the threshold, Neville had to hold in a gasp.

His Gran had told him all about the Gryffindor Common Room. It was a large circular room, with red plush furniture, red and gold wallpaper bordered with stone, with arched, pointed windows that offered a view of the Hogwart's Grounds, and was warmed by a nice roaring fireplace. From its description, it had nothing on the Slytherin Common Room. It was a large rectangular room filled with many large bookcases, tables, and chairs; all made out of mahogany. The couches and lounge chairs were made out of a black leather. The walls were of the original stone, smoothed out at the top with a series of elaborate carvings. On the back wall were two large, round, arched windows, which showed the deep blue of the Great Lake. From it, you could see schools of fish swim by and the tall kelp sway in the current. On the right side of the room, a large fireplace took up most of the wall and above it hung a picture of The House Founder, Salazar Slytherin.

The prefect cleared his throat once to get the first years' attention, "Boys, first room to the right, and girls, same to your left. You are to wait here for our Head of House, Professor Snape, to give you instructions." With that, he turned and left the common room.

A small murmur of conversation started among the first years as they waited. Neville stood quietly, observing his surroundings, when the common room door opened. In the doorway was Professor Snape. Everyone became quiet as he entered the room and stood in front of them.

He looked over them once very quickly before he began to speak, "You have been sorted into the noble Slytherin House. That means you must hold yourself with dignity, and that you must not make a fool of yourself, me, or of this house." When he said this last bit, he sent a glare to Neville. "Fail to do this and you will find that your time here will be very difficult. Though I know that this will not be a problem for most of you," he said,nodding at Draco. "This house has won the House Cup every year since I've been in charge and I expect the same this year. Be in the Great Hall for breakfast at eight o'clock sharp to receive your schedules. You are dismissed." With that, he turned and exited the common room.

Neville and the rest of the boys made their way to their room. It was a standard rectangular room with six beds, two on each side of the wall, barring the one near the door. Their trunks sat in the middle of the floor, where a house elf stood by in order to place them at the foot of the respective owner's bed.

"I will take that one, " Draco said, pointing to the bed that was against the left side of back wall. next to the window. " Crabb will take that one," he said, pointing to the bed to the right of his. " And Goyle will take that one," Draco concluded, pointing to the bed to the left of his.

"Neville and I will take the two beds over there," Theodore said, gesturing to the two beds against the right wall, which then left Baisley in the bed next to Goyle.

With a nod of its head, the house elf moved their trunks to the correct beds. Once everything was set up, everyone began to get into bed. Long after the lights were out and everyone else was asleep, Neville was awake, contemplating of what he was going to tell his Gran.


	10. Chapter 10

**AN: Hey guys, I'm going to try and update this story at least once a week (some time on the weekend). Still do not own Harry Potter. Thank you for reading. Review please. :)**

It was Sunday night and Neville had yet to owl his Gran. Neville knew she had already been alerted of his sorting, and was surprised that she had not owled him first. He also knew that she would want a full update on what had happened this week. And what a week it had been.

Neville had already gotten lost at least twice a day going to the common room, lost his schedule on the second day, dropped his bag at least a dozen times, tripped going up and down the many stairways, and forgot the common room password. If it was not for Theodore, Neville was sure that he would have had to spend the night outside in the corridor. These things did not even include what had happened in his classes. Although many of the classes were only going over theory at first, some were already moving on to the practical bits.

In Transfiguration, they had been practicing changing matches into needles, and Neville was the only person to not make any progress. Even Crabb and Goyle had managed to at least change the color of their match to silver. Neville could not figure out what he was doing wrong, he was doing the correct wand work and saying the spell properly. Neville knew he should probably ask Professor McGonagall, but he was determined to do it himself once he noticed the disappointed glance she sent his way when she thought he was not looking.

His first flying lesson was worst though. Neville already knew that he was a bad flyer. As a child, his Great Uncle Algie had tried to teach him to fly multiple times, and every time he had fallen. So he knew this time would not be any different. However, he was not expecting to fall from that high up. Neville was honestly glad that he only sprained his wrist and not broken his entire arm. The worst part of the whole thing was that he had lost the Remembrall that his Gran had given him. Theodore told him what had happened after he had left for the Hospital Wing. Somehow between the time McGonagall got Harry and Harry leaving the Quidditch Pitch, someone had taken it. Neville was pretty sure that it had been Ron Weasley, considering from all that he had heard, since he was the only one close to Harry at the time. Neville was just too scared to confront him.

However, the absolute worst class was Potions. Neville was almost positive that Professor Snape hated him more than anyone else in the castle, excluding Harry Potter, He had managed to explode every potion that he tried to make, sending him and sometimes others to the Hospital Wing. He could see how angry Snape was getting. Hell, everyone could see it. Neville would not be surprised if he would start being treated like a Gryffindor. The only reason he had not been yelled at in front of the class was because he was a Slytherin. This, however, did not save him from being called into Snape's office to "discuss" his progress in his classes the following week, three weeks earlier than everyone else. Neville tried as hard as he could in Potions, he really did, it was just a very hard for him to brew. He so far had managed to get an Exceeds Expectations on all the written work, and it was starting to look like he would have to rely on that to pass the course. Whenever he tried to brew something though, he had no idea what he was supposed to do. The classroom was always poorly lit, making it hard to see what was written in the textbook, let alone what Professor Snape had written on the board. It was also extremely hard to concentrate on his work when Professor Snape kept glaring at him throughout the lesson. He was already scary and intimidating on his own, and the glare only intensified that.

The week did have some upsides though. Neville was doing amazingly well in Herbology, in both written and practical work. During the first lesson, they were working with Mandrakes. Neville knew all about them from the books in his family library and had even worked with them a few times last year in his family's greenhouse. The ones they were working with here were still babies, so it would not be as difficult as working with the full grown ones like he was used to. Around him, everyone had been putting on their gloves and earmuffs. Neville decided to examine his gloves and earmuffs before putting them on, knowing that any rips or holes in them could not prevent some serious damage to his body. He was glad that he had done this, because he ended up finding a small rip at the base of his earmuffs, that, if remained undetected, would not have protected him from the terrible effects of the Mandrake's cry. He pointed this out to Professor Sprout, who was quite impressed that he caught an error, and ended up awarding him five points.

Neville had also become relatively good friends with Theodore Nott. Theodore was a quiet person in general, preferring to read rather than socialize. However, when he did speak, he tended to be very opinionated on many political issues. He definitely was a pureblood supremacist in almost every way and did not hide this fact, but he never would start a confrontation about it unless he was insulted first. The only thing that he did not agree with was the idea of muggleborns not being educated. Theodore believed that muggleborns needed to be educated so that they can assimilate into the wizarding society, so that way they can take the lower level jobs that were below a pureblood's station. Neville did not exactly agree with this idea, but he could understand where Theodore was coming from. For the most part, Theodore was a nice person, as he would always let Neville into the common room when he forgot the password, never laughed at him when he embarrassed himself, and even walked with him to their classes. However, he was still from a dark family.

"I will just emphasize about how well I am doing in Herbology, and hope Gran does not get too mad about everything else," Neville thought as he pulled out a piece of parchment.


	11. Chapter 11

The next morning, Neville saw his family owl fly towards him with a Howler in its beak. The moment it landed in front of him, Neville snatched the letter off the table and shoved it into his robe pocket. It was moments like this when Neville was glad that his housemates mostly ignored him. The only person who saw him receive the Howler was Theodore, who shot him a questioning glance, but did not say anything. Quickly finishing his breakfast, Neville stood up and made his way to the dorm room before class. Entering the empty dorm room, he sat down on his bed and pulled the Howler out of his pocket. Taking a deep breath, Neville opened the Howler.

"Neville Longbottom!" Augusta Longbottom's voice screamed out, " In all my years on this earth, never has the Longbottom's name been this disgraced! I swear, I never had these problems with your father. You need to start acting with some dignity, because I will not allow for this nonsense to continue! I forbid you to associate with that Nott boy. I will not have a grandson who is associating with Death Eaters in the making! I also expect Os in your Charms, Transfiguration, Potions, and especially Defence Against the Dark Art classes. You need good grades in those classes to make the Auror program. Do not let me hear that you have made a fool out of yourself again. There will be changes, young man, and we will discuss these at Yule break." With that final sentence, the Howler destroyed itself.

Neville was not sure when, but at some point while listening, he had started to cry. Quickly wiping the tears from his eyes, Neville stood up and began to clean up the pieces of the Howler. As he began to walk to the rubbish bin, Neville caught his reflection in the mirror that Malfoy had set up in the room. He looked pathetic. There were tear tracks running down his face, making his face all red and puffy. A determined look crossed his face and in that moment, Neville decided he would never be weak again. Taking his handkerchief out of his pocket, Neville wiped the tears off of his face and made himself presentable. With a new sense of purpose, Neville threw away the pieces of Howler, drew his wand, and pointed it into the rubbish bin. Thinking back to a spell he read about in one of the books his Gran made him read, Neville closed his eyes and concentrated on his magic flowing through his wand as he casted a Scorching Spell. Opening his eyes, he was pleased to see a small fire burning what remained of the Howler. With a small smile on his face, he watched the fire go out and turned to head to class.


	12. Chapter 12

Neville stood nervously outside of Professor Snape's office. Taking a deep breath, Neville knocked on the door.

"Enter," Snape's voice rang out into the empty corridor.

Before he could become anxious, Neville opened the door and entered the office. Closing the door behind him, Neville observed his surroundings. The office was dimly lit, with walls made out of stone. Along the walls there were multiple bookshelves containing a variety of potion ingredients and books. In the middle of the room was a plain wooden desk with a chair behind it and a chair in front of it. On top of the desk sat two piles of homework and a third, smaller stack of files. Suddenly, Neville noticed a small amount of movement to his left. Turning immediately, he faced Professor Snape.

"You wanted to speak to me sir," Neville said politely.

"Yes," Snape said with a sneer, "Take a seat."

With a nod, Neville went and sat in the chair facing the desk. He watched as Professor Snape began to shift through the stack of files, until he pulled out one towards the bottom of the pile and sat down.

"Mr. Longbottom," he said, opening up the file in his hand, "I am sure you know why you are here. It seems that while you are doing exceptionally well on your written theory work, but your practical work needs some immense improvement. Especially in Potions," the last part was said with a sneer on his face. "Care to explain why this is?"

Neville was pretty sure that the question was supposed to be rhetorical and that Snape did not want to hear what he had to say. Neville decided to take a risk.

Taking a shaky breath, Neville began to speak, "Well, sir, I tend to find the theory part easy to understand, but I have a hard time putting that theory into action. I have also been studying this kind of material since I was little, so I have a tendency to pick up the material faster than others. However, I have never had the opportunity to do actual magic till I came to Hogwarts." Neville was quite proud of himself for not stuttering through his little speech, and small smile crept onto his face.

"Well, Mister Longbottom, many children here have been studying magic since they were little, and none of them have been having this much difficulty," Snape sneered.

Neville's smile fell from his face as quickly as it appeared. He resisted the urge to slouch down into his seat at this comment. Instead, he tightened his hands into fists and shoved them into his robe pockets.

" Due to your inability to understand even the basics of casting a spell", Snape continued, "I have decide to assign you a tutor. I believe that you are familiar with Miss Granger."

"Yes sir," Neville replied, already knowing where this conversation was leading.

"Good. You will be meeting Miss Granger in the library every day after classes and at 8 a.m. on weekends, starting tomorrow." Snape replied. "You are dismissed," he said with a wave of his hand.

Neville nodded and exited the office with a sense of dread in his stomach.


End file.
